Stranger Things
by Iridescent Hope
Summary: It's been well over six years since the Tweeks moved away. Craig never gave the fact they left a second thought but... Tweak's dad had always just been joking about selling his son, right?
1. Chapter 1

He honestly hadn't even _thought_ about Tweak for what- six, seven years now?

The Tweek Bros coffeeshop really hadn't been the best coffee. Sure, it had been a small, family run business, and it had survived off the kindness of the locals of South Park for quite a few years but… sometime in third grade Craig could remember the inevitable finally happening, and the business went under. Or… they sold out to Harbucks? Either way, the Tweaks only stuck around for a few more weeks until they vanished just like their business.

In retrospect, Craig could recall Tweak seeming even more on edge than usual during those few weeks. Or maybe that was just his memory playing tricks on him now. It seemed easy to kick himself and try to say that he should have _known_ something was wrong, but… he had also been a child. A ten-year-old, snot nosed fourth grader who was infatuated with flipping people off. Even if he had any sort of inclining that there was something off with the Tweek's sudden move from South Park, what could he have done?

Or maybe that was just his own attempt to try to absolve himself from any lingering guilt.

Waiting until the last minute to do a school project was why he was out tromping in the woods with dark rapidly approaching on a wednesday night, camera clutched tightly in gloved hands. Photography had been a fun hobby that Craig had discovered he had an eye for, but he couldn't say he enjoyed the amount of work that went into it. Having to go out hunting for the perfect shot when he wasn't _feeling it_ was more of a hassle than he liked, though, and regret over taking an actual class on it was seeping in like the cold that was numbing his face and fingers.

The shutter clicked as he found himself taking a few aimless shots of the trees. An attempt was made to include squirrels and birds, but his haphazard approach had them scurrying away long before he could actually take the shot. _Nothing_ was going to make for a good picture, let alone for anything higher than a 'B', but at least he would get the assignment done.

A crack behind him and Craig whirled, camera raised.

A click. A flash.

And a panicked blond staring back at him.

The figure- the _person_ should not have been out in the cold. Craig was dress appropriately in jeans, sweater, black parka, boots, hat and gloves. The other looked like he just had on a hospital gown. Bare feet, bare hands, and the exposed skin was pale and faint tinged blue as well as scraped and bruised. He couldn't have been out in the cold for that long, or else he could have looked worse, but he definitely _shouldn't_ have been out there looking like that.

"Holy shit dude." Craig blinked before _laughing_ , the reaction a gut one he couldn't really control. "Did you escape from the hospital or something? Or get lost trying to get to one?" It was followed up by an awkward attempt to smile as the camera strap was hung around his neck, making it eas(ier) for him to unzip his jacket and start to slip out of it.

The figure just stared at him, almost as if he was _afraid_ of what Craig was going to do.

"Here, put this on." The dark jacket was held out to the other and given a light shake for emphasis. Pale fingers hesitantly traced along the edge before the blond snatched it away, hugging it greedily to his chest before putting it on. All Craig could really do was let out a snort and shake his head, _amused_ by the way the other was reacting.

"Right. C'mon, I'm parked off the road this way." And a vague gesture back in the direction that Craig had initially tromped through the woods. Running into someone who looked like they had escaped from a hospital was the beginning of every terrible zombie flick ever, but he wasn't able to be the heroine of a bad b-rated flick. He pulled his phone out, flicking through a few apps to make sure he would be heading back in the right direction _and_ to turn the flashlight on. "I can take you back if you come with me. Car's a bit of a rust bucket but the heat works, at least."

"N… No."

The blond had shrugged the coat on quickly before taking a few steps back. During their brief moments on interaction the sun had fallen further in the sky, forcing Craig to have to shine the flashlight to see the imprints left, and he winced at the slight red tinge in the snow that was visible. "Dude, come on." Wasn't there something about the cold that could do this to people? Paradoxical stripping was A Thing, though that wouldn't explain why the stranger had so eagerly pulled the coat on. "You're clearly hurt and freezing."

"N-no-"

"Yes."

Compared to some (really, most) of the other boys in South Park, Craig had always been a bastion of patience. Foul-mouthed without a doubt and maybe he had a bit of a habit of impulsively flicking people off when he shouldn't have, but overall he was fairly calm and projected that onto those around him. So when the stranger tried to back off he just stepped forward and reached out to take his wrist in hand, doing his best to offer a comforting smile coupled with a slight tug. "You're gonna feel a ton better once you get somewhere warm and doctors can look after you and-"

"I-i-i said n-n-no Craig!"

The blond seemed to jerk unnaturally at that, head contorting to the side as his shoulder snapped up. It was followed by an attempt to pull away, but he wasn't strong enough to pull himself out of Craig's grasp. What had initially been a loose hold had turned into something a little tighter hearing his name, and the strange movements were setting off sparks of recognition along his memory.

It had been years but it was funny how quickly those memories could come falling back into place.

"... Tweak?" A panicked breath caught in the blond's throat, but Craig didn't let him pull away. "Tweak, Jesus… what happened to you…"

This really wasn't the time for this.

Craig found himself glancing around the dark woods before nodding, a decision made. "Okay. Scratch the hospital. You still need out of the woods though. My place okay?" There would be a few… more than a few, actually, kinks he would have to work out, but it wasn't like Craig would have to worry about his mom paying attention to what he was doing.

The look the Tweak shot him erased any doubts that Craig might have had over whether or not this was a good idea. He looked exhausted, worn thin, and so very _grateful_ at the offer of having a place to spend the night. A place that _wasn't_ a hospital lab. It left Craig with more than a few questions, but they were ones he could get answers to later.

An arm slipped around Tweak's midsection to help support him as Craig started to walk with him back to the car. The blond made an attempt to try to walk on his own for just a moment before giving in and leaning against him, hobbling with the dark-haired-male back to his car.


	2. Chapter 2

The drive back to his house was one done in silence. Craig couldn't rightly say if it was comfortably or not; Tweak just curled up on the passenger's seat and passed out within a few minutes of the heat being twisted onto high. It gave him a clear view of just how thin the other's legs seemed, and the cuts on the bottoms of his feet. _Jesus Tweak…_ What the hell happened to him? Craig really couldn't decide what question he wanted an answer to more: where Tweak had been for the past six years, why he was here now, why he was here in just a hospital gown looking like he had crawled out of a cave in, or why he seemed so terrified of the prospect of going back to a hospital.

It didn't seem to matter which question _he_ wanted answered, though. Tweak seemed very adamant over not going and there had been something about his refusal that had made Craig inclined to agree. He didn't have to, and he was fully capable of changing directions and heading Hells Pass instead of home. But even someone as emotionally _blind_ as the dark-haired male could tell that this was something that Tweak had been absolutely terrified of. Doing that to him would have been a major dick move.

Craig would have really been the dick then.

Aside from the burgeoning hypothermia and the cuts on his feet, it didn't seem like Tweak had any major wounds either. Nothing that Craig couldn't handle with a warm bath and some antiseptic gel. Maybe. First step would be googling how to treat stage one hypothermia to see if the idea of a bath even was a good idea before he actually went for it. Step two would be following the instructions of whatever step one said.

It was only a fifteen minute car ride back to his home and yet Tweak was _out_ by the time they arrived. Craig actually felt a twinge of guilt as he parked the car, killing the engine (and, in turn, cutting off the heat supply that had helped lull the other into such a deep sleep). Without the rumble Tweak started to stir on his own. Without much thought Craig reached over, hand resting on the other's shoulder to help shake him awake.

"Hey we're-"

He barely got the words out before Tweak sat bolt upright, scrambling to wedge himself into the corner of the car door and car seat. His eyes were wide and the panic that had been laced in them earlier was back as they rolled, whites showing as his nostrils flared. Craig leaned back as well, hands held up in a defensive gesture to make it clear that he hadn't meant to scare him, or mean him any harm in general.

"Hey, hey. It's just me." He waited a beat as Tweak seemed to slowly relax, the fear in his gaze fading as his position unclenched. Craig smiled weakly as he let his hand hover above the other's shoulder before deciding against actually touching him. "We're here. Are you gonna be okay walking inside?"

For a moment Tweak was silent as his gaze shifted from Craig to stare out the windshield at the house, and Craig did the same. It was dark with the exception of one room - Tricia's. His mom was either asleep or at work or gone… somewhere, and with his dad not living here anymore it meant that they were basically going to have the house to themselves. Yes, Tricia, but his fourteen-year-old sister wasn't about to drag herself away from whatever youtube makeup tutorial she was watching.

"I haven't been here in years." His voice sounded weak and scratchy, not at all like the bombastic Tweak from Craig's memories. "... doesn't look any different from what I remember."

"Heh." The dark-haired male grinned as he slipped out from the driver's side of the car. He eased his way over to the passenger side, pulling the door open. Craig hovered there as he watched Tweak slowly ease himself out. He winced sympathetically as he watched his cut feet touch the cold driveway, but Tweak hardly seemed to even notice. The other just hugged Craig's pilfered coat tighter around his body as he shivered in the cold air. "I guess it wouldn't look any different from the outside, but it's not exactly the same inside."

Judging from Tweak's scrunched up expression, this wasn't really the response he was hoping for.

The two limped - well, one of them limped as the other just watched nervously - into the dark house. Craig flicked on the lights before calling out- "Tricia?" As expected, there was no response, just the dull thump of bass from the direction of her room. On any other night it would have irritated him but tonight it was perfect.

"C'mon, follow me." The words were likely unnecessary judging from the way that Tweak was obediently following behind him, but that didn't stop Craig from talking. It just felt… better? To fill the air with _something_ instead of just silence. Quiet wasn't something he minded but… he couldn't really say it was _quiet_ when so many thoughts were swirling in his head.

Plus it kept him from saying anything about the bloodied footprints that Tweak was leaving behind. They didn't seem to be _that_ bad and Craig guessed he'd be able to clean them up easily enough. No reason to make any sort of fuss about them now.

He led the blond back to his bathroom and gestured for him to take a seat on the toilet. Craig peeled his gloves and hat off, dropping them in an unceremonious pile on the floor as his shoes were toed off as well. "Okay. Let's take care of those cut up feet first…" And a low hum as he started to rummage through the cabinet beneath his sink, pulling out bandages, wipes, and antiseptic solution. Add tweezers to the mix and success!- he was all set to play doctor.

More like triage nurse but. Same thing currently.

Craig flashed Tweak a smile as he gathered up his supplies. A warm damp washcloth was added to the mix before he took a seat on the floor in front of the toilet. "Hey, so I can't say I've really done this before, though I'm pretty sure most of it is just common sense. It just might hurt a little, though." It didn't matter how gentle he was; Craig was positive it was going to sting when he wiped the dirt and blood away from the wounds, or when he tried to dig the worst of the rocks out from the open cuts when the tweezers.

A light laugh escaped Craig before he looked down at his hands. Blood and grime covered from working on patching up Tweak… "So… do you think you can tell me what you were doing out in the woods now?"

He didn't think that Tweak was answering at first. It wasn't until Craig looked up and saw that his mouth was moving that he saw that yes, he _was_ talking. His voice was just so faint that it was barely audible.

"... running… bad men…"

Craig frowned, brow crinkling at the sound of that. "You were running from bad men?"

A long pause and then- a nod as Tweak looked away, clearly uncomfortable with this line of questioning.

Craig wanted to keep on pushing it, but he wasn't sure he would even get anything more from Tweak if he did. Not at this moment at least. Even if he did, would it be worth it? The blond was clearly still borderline _terrified_ and Craig could guess that it wouldn't take much to break his trust, fragile as it clearly was. Better to just try to take care of him first and deal with anything (and everything) else later.

With the worst of the debris removed from Tweak's feet, Craig liberally coated the wounds with antiseptic before loosely covering them with gauze and bandages. The blond needed to shower but his skin still felt cool to the touch, and a few searches on his phone made it clear that hopping into a hot shower while under the influences of hypothermia was a bad idea. Showering could wait until morning, then.

"I- hold on." He held a finger up to gesture for Tweak to stay in his seat for a moment (and not _that_ finger either) before Craig hurried off to his room. A few moments later he returned with sweats, old t-shirt, and socks in hand. "Nothing fancy but it's better than what you have on now, right?"

The smile he got from Tweak was the first sign of anything other than pure panic from the blond. It was weak and barely more than a slight shift of his lips, but it had the effect of causing Craig's heart to thump oddly in his chest in response to the sight of it.

The dirty hospital gown was left on the floor alongside Craig's outerwear. With a mental note to come back to clean everything up, the dark-haired male helped Tweak into his room- and into his bed.

From the way Tweak seemed to collapse onto the mattress and curl up under the covers, Craig could guess he was _exhausted_.

"Sleep tight buddy, okay?" Craig patted his shoulder and offered the other a small smile before pulling away, brow furrowing slightly as he started to head out of his room. He had a few messes to clean up now… not to mention a few things he had to start looking into...


	3. Chapter 3

He slept on the floor that night. It wasn't the most comfortable place but Tweak had fallen asleep almost immediately in his bed and disturbing him seemed like it would have been cruel. Grabbing a couple of pillows and blankets made for a decent enough nest, though it wasn't like Craig had gotten around to heading to sleep anytime soon; there was a school assignment he still had to finish up, and he found he couldn't resist doing a few searches for any news stories on 'escaped hospital patients' in the area.

Nothing. Which was the same result when he tried to search for Tweak Tweek, or any of the Tweek's. The former was what Craig had been expecting, but the latter was a little more unnerving. Craig furrowed his brow as he frowned down at his laptop before glancing over at the other's sleeping form. Tweak should have had _some_ sort of web presence. Hadn't he at least made a facebook account back when they were in middle school? Craig could have even sworn being his friend on it and yet… nothing.

It was unnerving but there was nothing that Craig could do about it right now. What, shake Tweak awake and demand to know why he hadn't done anything notable over the past several years that would've been worth an article online, or why he hadn't kept up on Facebook or some sort of blog? Even just the _thought_ was enough to have the dark-haired male snorting as he shut his laptop.

Maybe Tweak's parents had gotten divorced and his mom got a new last name and that was what Tweak used now. Maybe Tweak went by a different name online. Maybe there were a hundred of reasonable explanation that Craig could come up with off the top of his head that would excuse away the lack of results. _No reason_ to make this into a big deal.

\- it was something he had meant to ask Tweak about in the morning, at the least. _Meant to_ , though Craig found himself waking up with barely five minutes to get up and out if he wanted to catch the bus to school. He had an alarm set to go off on his phone, but it must have glitched and got set to close to forty five minutes later.

Tweak was already up, sitting cross legged on the bed and watching Craig curiously as the other frantically dashed about to get ready. The sight of him was enough to cause Craig to pause as he was grabbing his backpack: "Hey, grab some food from the kitchen if you get hungry, and clean up and shower if you feel up to it. You can play video games or whatever if you get bored until I get back." The statement was followed up with a vague gesture towards the small tv setup on top of the dresser, with the cords of a gamestation forming a visible knot on the ground below it.

The blond's response was a vague smile and a nod. "Okay Craig. Thanks."

It was an uneventful trip to school, spent just scrolling through the pictures on his camera as he tuned out the chatter around him. On the best of days Craig found it hard to really care about what his classmates were talking about, and today was… not a bad day, honestly. It was just that there were plenty of other things that seemed far more important.

Like making sure he had a good shot to show Miss Wilson. And like thinking about what he was going to do with the teenage boy that had suddenly taken up residency in his room.

School had changed a lot since they had been in elementary school. Homeroom was a thing of the past and the once familiar faces that he had seen every day had become occasional occurrences. Wendy took photography with him and Butters was in his chem class, but otherwise he really only saw a handful of the 'gang' during lunch or after school.

He didn't even get to see all of them today, either. Butters was absent, something that was a bit unusual for him - but there was a stomach virus going around so it wasn't something that anyone really batted an eye at - and Cartman was gone too, off on some family trip with his mom to… honestly, Craig had no idea. The comings and goings of Fatass were pretty low on his list of priorities. All it meant was that lunch would be hassle free.

The only time he was really forced into interaction was during photography. Partnering up was Miss Wilson's favorite way to get the students to grade assignments for her, even though it was undoubtedly their least favorite way to go over anything. Craig and Wendy had formed an uneasy alliance at the start of the term that had boiled down to 'don't talk about my pictures outside of class and I won't talk about yours' and it had worked out fairly well. They might have even been forming something of a friendship, if Craig was really one to _do_ friendships.

"So… what inspired your pictures?" One of the standard questions that had to be asked. It was coupled with a small smile was Wendy, a little 'I hate having to say this and I know you hate having to answer this.' Craig rolled his eyes in return, though it was clear that his frustration wasn't aimed at her.

"The due date."

A snort and a giggle as Wendy continued to flick through them. "Well, the due date was apparently very inspiring. They're actually not half bad, if a little rushed. See these blurred spots?" She tilted the camera and pointed towards the screen, taking care not to actually tap it. "You can tell you were barely stopped and that you moved immediately after taking the picture. Try to give yourself a little more time to stand still and breathe."

"Right. I'll keep that in mind next time I'm standing outside and freezing my ass off. I just need to go slow and take my time."

This time it was Wendy's turn to roll her eyes before she started to hand the camera back to Craig. She paused, brow furrowing as she looked at the final picture on the camera roll. "... why do you have a picture of Butters? What was he doing out there so that?"

"What?" Alarmed for a _variety_ of reasons, Craig snatched the camera back from her. It was the last picture he had taken, the one he had snapped when he had turned to see Tweak. It grossly illuminated his face making his already pale features seem even more washed out, and so up close it was hard to make out just what he was (or rather, wasn't) wearing. It… did look a little bit like Butters, as blurry and out of focus as it was. Without knowing who the actual subject of the picture was…

"It wasn't Butters."

Wendy looked like she wanted to ask more questions but the ringing bell signified the end of the period, allowing for him to grab his back and bolt from the room.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, and it wasn't long before he was bouncing off the steps of the bus to head up to his house. Craig paused to take note of the fact that his car was still in the driveway, and there was no sign of his mother's car in the garage. Had she come home last night…? Or had she found someone after work to go home work? It wasn't really any of his business, considering how he was eighteen and getting ready to graduate, but what about Tricia? Someone was supposed to be taking care of _her_ and it shouldn't have to be _his_ job-

Ah. Craig shook his head before opening the front door. He was just being bitter with those thoughts. Tricia was hardly any work, especially for a fourteen-year-old girl. She stayed in her room, fed herself, got herself to and from school and, most importantly, she stayed out of his way. What _else_ could he really ask for?

Besides… she was his sister. And wasn't that what family was for?

"Tricia, I'm home." He hollered out to her as he kicked his shoes off before starting to head off back to his room. There was no response to his call, leading him to believe that she must have been kept after school for a club or something else. Come to think of it… he didn't even know what it was that she _did_ with her free time. She must have been involved in something or…

Or…

Craig's thoughts came to a screeching halt as he opened the door to his room. Tweak was still there, sitting on the floor now instead of on his bed, and in front of him were several pens and pencils that he must have dug out from Craig's desk. Only instead of sitting on the carpet in front of him, they were in the air, swirling around almost lazily in front of Tweak's face. One of the blond's hands was slightly lifted and his fingers were twitching, seeming to control the movement of the floating object with each movement of his digits.

"What… the hell…"

There was a loud _thump_ as his bag hit the ground and in the back of his mind Craig found himself slightly worried over whether or not his camera was okay. Now would _not_ be the time for him to have a broken one, though that seemed like the least of his worries right now. The floating pens seemed to fall to the ground at the same time as Tweak twisted to look up at the other male with wide, panicked eyes.

"What the hell." A repeated statement for emphasis as Craig found himself staring at the other. All Tweak could really do was just shake his head as he inched himself back on the carpet, moving closer towards the bed.

"... Please… don't tell the bad men where I am."


	4. Chapter 4

Craig made tea.

It felt like such a silly thing to do, but his response to displays of emotional distress were 'make tea' or 'leave' and leaving didn't seem like an option. Brewing a nice cup of tea was a habit he had picked up from his mother; something about holding onto a warm mug of hot leaf water helped to calm people down. They always seemed grateful just for the gesture, especially since Craig had absolutely no idea how to actually _make_ tea.

It never went without notice that they only ever took a few sips before placing the mug aside and just forgetting about it. Except Tweak didn't do that. Tweak almost greedily snatched the mug up to gulp the contents down, ignoring any of Craig's warnings over how the contents inside of it were probably still _hot_. In just a matter of moment the cup was drained and the blond sat hunched forward, empty cup held tightly between his hands in his lap as he stared down into it.

"... I could… go make you some more if you would… like…?" A slight gesture was made towards his door as Craig made to get up. Tweak quickly, and emphatically, shook his head.

"No-! N-no, it- it's okay. I, I- I shouldn't be h-having anything with c-caffeine in it anyways…"

Huh. That was a thought. Tweak without caffeine. Craig could hardly remember a time when the blond wasn't hopped up on _something_ when they were younger, and his parents had been incredibly glib about just handing him out cups of coffee as if it was the miracle cure for anything that might have ailed him. In retrospect it was probably a horrible way to raise a child (but, in all fairness, in retrospect a _lot_ of the parents in South Park would fall into that category) but it had still created a permanent mental association between Tweak and coffee.

With a small nod Craig moved to take a seat across from Tweak. The tea making had been brought on by what he had seen when he had first walked into the room: the sight of Tweak apparently _levitating_ a few small objects with his… mind? Hand? If he had to guess Craig would say the former, but it wasn't like he knew the ins and outs of telekinesis, but that was why he was sitting here now, waiting expectantly for the other to talk. Tweak knew what was expected of him now as well, which was obviously from the way his fidgeting was getting worse and the way his fingers curled and drummed against the mug in his lap.

"So, um-"

"W-we're not supposed to t-talk about them." The words came out in a rush as Tweak's fingers tightened, knuckles going white. "I-it, it wasn't so b-bad at f-first but they said, they t-told me I c-couldn't even talk to my p-parents about it. And i-it was j-just these weird t-tests at first b-but they got w-worse a-and-"

"Whoa. Whoa. Okay." Craig lifted his hands to gesture for Tweak to slow down and pause in his honestly poor attempt to try to explain… something. He wasn't really following along, though the few bits that he could piece together seemed to involve some men who weren't allowing Tweak to talk to his parents. Okay. Those people were probably the bad men. "Where… where are your parents? Tweak, why were you out in the woods? And what… did I walk in on?"

"You… you're not… listening." Tweak's shoulders hunched forward as he shook his head. "I-i'm t-trying to tell you! I- I-i don't know w-where my p-parents a-are- I-i haven't s-seen t-them after they took me away. T-they, they-"

The mug in his hands shattered.

It should have been surprising, and yet Craig barely even jolted in place at the sound of the loud ' _crack_ ' when it happened. He just blinked and stared at the shards of ceramic now in Tweak's lap. For a moment it seemed like neither one of them knew what to do and were both frozen in place. It wasn't until the first slice of crimson started to slide down the blond's thumb that Craig's fear of the other being cut was confirmed.

"Damnit." Cursing softly he pushed himself to his feet. There was a box of tissues on his desk and he snagged it, pulling a few out before shoving them into the other's hands. "Here. Staunch the wound. Or, wait. Hold on." He wasn't quite _rattled_ but he felt a strange amount of… concern for Tweak. He shouldn't. But it didn't stop something in his chest from rearing up and hissing angrily at the sight of the other's injury.

"S-sorry-"

"What do you have to be sorry for?" The question was followed by a blink as Craig stared curiously at the other. There was no immediate response, causing him to arch one brow curiously before turning to pad from the room. A quick stop to the bathroom allowed him to snag some bandages before he returned, and this time he took a seat next to Tweak instead of sitting across from him.

Without asking if it was okay, Craig took Tweak's hand and gently pulled the bloodied tissue away from it. It looked like only his index finger had been lacerated from the broken ceramic, and even that didn't seem that bad. Nothing that would require stitches. A bandaid and just keeping an eye on it was all that would really be needed.

Craig could feel how badly Tweak was trembling, both through his hand and by how his shoulder was shaking. Nerves, but there was definitely a factor of cold; Tweak was _freezing_. His hand felt like ice and the dark-haired male half expected to feel it actually _radiating_ from him. Colorado in the middle of winter was often bitterly cold and the heat was set rather low in the house to save money. Wearing layers and staying active solved any freezing issues, both of which Tweak seemed to be having issues with.

With one hand Craig reached back to snag a corner of a blanket from his bed, yanking it down so that he could pull it over Tweak's (and his own) shoulders. The blond looked over at him and flashed him a grateful smile before hesitantly shifting even closer, sitting practically hip to hip with the other. With his hand still resting in Craig's lap, Tweak started to talk again- this time with just slightly less stuttering.

"W-we… we moved away when they c-came to my parents. They, they said that I, that I was special. I, I think my dad, h-he just thought that m-maybe I had done really well on a t-test or something, I, I don't know. I never really asked him a-after he made it clear that everything would be b-better for them after this. I-i guess their business w-wasn't going too well and everything was going to be p-paid off and they were just super h-happy about that."

 _Huh_. The cut on Tweak's finger had been covered by now, and Craig had found himself just idly running his fingers along the side of the other's palm. That made sense and tracked with what he knew of Tweak's dad. A dick move, but it still made sense. Why turn down an offer to have everything taken care of when all it would cost you was your son?

Parenting in South Park was pretty much a how to guide on what _not_ to do when raising a child.

"A-at first I lived on home b-but soon they wanted me to spend m-more and more time at, at this f-facility. With these t-tests- T-they put s-shit in my b-brain a-and asked me to d-do things, if I could s-see things, and- fuck… At first I j-just wasn't allowed to see my p-parents but t-then… t-they said they left."

That barely scratched the surface of the questions that Craig had, but he could tell that he had pushed Tweak a bit too far. The blond had given him all the answers he could, and all the answers he had were incredibly _disturbing_. If it was true then his parents had basically sold him to some sort of government experiment that what, Tweak had escaped from? And if he wasn't telling the truth then Tweak had _still_ escaped from some hospital, most likely a mental one, and was in some dire need of medical care that Craig would not be able to provide.

One of those options had a little more weight behind them considering the little magic trick that Craig had walked in on.

"It's okay Tweak." It wasn't but, just like making tea, saying those words had become part of the ritual of comforting lies that Craig had learned throughout the years. He offered what he hoped was a comforting smile before slowly pulling himself away from Tweak, a gesture that resulted in a small whine and a look like he had kicked a puppy from the other. "It's okay. Whatever those people did, I won't let them do it to you anymore."

"-Pro-promise?"

It was hard not to snort at that considering how _juvenile_ the request was, but Craig just nodded as he started to step to the door. "I promise."

It was the sound of fluttering and a light 'fwump' that had him pausing and looking behind him. Tweak had risen to his feet as well, brow furrowed slightly as he took a step towards Craig. "Promise…" The word was repeated as he took another step closer and, even though he was _positive_ that Tweak wouldn't hurt him, Craig found he couldn't stop himself from stepping back.

He could only go so far before his back was up against the door and Tweak was _right there_ , cut hand reaching up to lightly stroke along the skin of Craig's cheek. He could feel his breath catch in his throat as the blond stretched up to the tips of his toes, bandaged feet straining to let him stretch up to reach Craig.

Reach his lips.

Chapped lips brushed against his own and Craig found himself relaxing, one arm moving to gently loop around his waist. It felt right and wrong, confusing and just- simple all at once. Something _bad_ had happened to Tweak, and all Craig wanted to do was make sure that bad things didn't happen to him again.

The sound of a door slamming shut caused them both to jolt, and Craig to mutter a low 'fuck'. Barely a moment passed before: "Craig!"

"My mom's home. I have- you should-" He made a slight gesture back towards the bed. Tweak nodded as he scurried back, snatching up the blanket before wrapping himself up. He smiled, something that Craig off in muted return before leaving the room.

\- what the hell had _that_ been all about?

* * *

Reviews, follows, and favs are all greatly appreciated


End file.
